


Nothing is true, everything's permitted

by Shadowdianne



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU world, Assassin's Creed setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-17 05:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/Shadowdianne
Summary: 1870, New York City. Is the beginning of the Gilded Age when the industry barons started to fight for the city's control and better merchant lines. In a world that is slowly coming to its senses after a war Templars and Assassins fight for their own place and status. Regina Mills is one of them, one assassin fighting in the shadows while trying to catch as much light as possible. Until something happens.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N This work is a collab made with swanqueen-in-gotham. Go check the link below in where a trailer of this story has been already posted. It’s a really amazing work and it has been a delight to do a collab such as this one.  
> As a PS this story is set in New York City during its 1870’s. I tried to bring as much historical background as possible. However, there are things that due to the story has needed to be tweaked. I hope that for the historical nerds out there -fellow one here- the details and small tidbits of information are presented as organically as possible. As another PS Regina’s character has been heavily based on Evie Frye in several occasions regarding both her fighting style and clothing which is not exactly the better mirror of the fashion of that time in that particular place but it seemed the closest to what Regina would in fact use.  
> As always comments are heavily appreciated.

[(Video)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCbkpf5TL0g)

* * *

 

Nighttime had fallen upon New York City and the once bustling streets were now filled with whispers and shadows that only the few ones awake were privy to hear and see. In one corner of the ninth avenue, however, between the gagging smell of the stagnant water from the Hudson and the mix of burned grease and coal that never seemed to cease from the now dormant factories, the silhouette of a shadow was crouched behind a few forgotten wooden boxes equally gnawed by rats and stray dogs alike. Contrary to the whistling breeze that carried away the saline stench from the forgotten steamships that now slept in the decks a few streets away and the clacking sound of the elevated railway that rose a few meters from where the boxes where, the silhouette was perfectly still; making no noise as the sound of the voice of the half-drunken thug she had been spying at ever since the last rays of sun had disappeared altogether came to her in the same fashion the stench did.

Regina bit down her bottom lip as she moved slightly further away from the boxes, switching her weight from her left to her right foot as she darted a look between the almost corroded wood planks that conformed the box. Grasping the top part of her hood she gave it a tug as she looked at her left where a splash of silver signaled the place where the half-hidden moon reflected its light into the puddles that were scattered along the street. Patience had never been her most proficient characteristic and as she mentally counted the seconds while the heavy footsteps seemed to approach her place she crouched even more, her left hand digging into the dark clothes of her suit, a much more fitting ensemble that any woman would have been caught wearing during daylight.

Finally, after a few more long excruciating moments, the barrel-like chest of the thug came into view, his frame barely contained by a now grey -possibly former white- shirt and loose pants. Narrowing her eyes the brunette assassin pursed her lips and rotated her right wrist, a mechanic whirring rising from the motion. Nodding to herself and waiting just enough for the thug to look at the other side of the street while grumbling how he was expected to freeze his ass off she whistled once, the sound piercing through the air and making the brute look towards the shadows he hadn’t been looking at until then.

Moving forward and grabbing one of his feet Regina pulled upwards as quickly as possible until she felt the brute stumble, unable to regain his center. Just as quickly Regina let the man fall while moving swiftly towards his now exposed back. The silver moonlight illuminated the hidden blade of her right wrist as she left the mechanism exposed to it, the blade disappearing just as quickly in the thug’s back. The man let go a quick scream that was promptly muffled by his own blood which soon enough started to pool around his unmoving body once Regina twisted the blade inside him.

Retracting the blade again with another snap of her wrist Regina stood as tall as she was, her eyes shining under her hood while she looked at the door the now dead thug had been guarding all night long, the dimmed light that came from below the door enough for the woman to smile victoriously while throwing one last glance to the corpse. It was going to probably cause some ruckus a few hours from then, she thought while glancing at the pocket watch she had dangling from its chain, but she really didn’t have any other option than leave him there.

Squaring her shoulders and heading towards the now unguarded door she left the body behind, her fingers disappearing once again in her suit and grasping the small set of lock picks she had checked to still have a few moments before. However, she soon discovered that apart from the thug nothing else had been set in order to keep the entrance guarded and so one single thrust into the open door later revealed the entry, the light she had seen below the door now illuminating her figure as she stepped inside, closing the door just enough behind her to make it look tightly closed from a distance.

Blinking and moving closer to the corridor’s walls she quickly found herself into a bigger room in were the dancing flames of a fire licked the shadows away and illuminated the blackened floor in where three more thugs talked to each other in gruff voices as they played cards. The fire, coming from a small heater close to where Regina was crouching once more, caused the woman to blink the away a droplet of sweat as she mentally calculated how many steps she would need in order to reach the nearest thug and the door that waited for her behind all of the three men who now were laughing as another round of their card game was done. Probably too many.

She didn’t pay any mind to their words, knowing she probably had seconds before either the nearest one turned and saw her or the other two looked up enough for her form to be revealed behind the heater.  Extracting one small, light knife from the back of her right boot she counted to ten before raising, the heat of the heater’s walls biting into her knuckles of her right hand as she threw the knife towards the nape of the thug nearest to the door and grabbed a fistful of still steaming cinders. Wincing briefly, -she really should have bring her gloves- she took two more steps forward just as the man fell, the movement causing his companions to turn and scream death threats as they saw her. She, however, didn’t let them approach her enough and jumped to her left when the closest one tried to grab her. Keeping her back as straight as possible, she bared her hidden blade once again, slicing the man’s side with it before throwing the cinders at him, the scream that followed suit as he tried to scrub them from his eyes enough sign that they had hit their destined target.

Moving closer towards the third thug as the man knocked over the small table they had been playing at she let the blade slide again into its sheathe, the motion making the thug’s eyes bulge as he closed his hands into two meaty fists. Breezing through the floor, Regina picked the embedded knife from the first man’s neck and pulled, knocking the third man unconscious with the blunt handle after dodging a half-arsed attempt of hitting her.

Looking at her hand and sighing as she saw the now red skin she tried to open and close it a few times, feeling the skin tighter around her burn but nothing that couldn’t be fixed later. Looking at the new three corpses she let her guard down for the first time in all those minutes, her back relaxing at last as she focused on the beaten and worn out jackets they were in where the letters QoD were still visible at its left side, closer to the breast. It had been a while since she had felt anything else than just numbness after an assassination and for that she closed her eyes, mentally kicking herself before opening her eyes again; she really didn’t have the time and she knew that, could feel it in the soft ticking noise of her clock that kept marking how many minutes she still had. Not many and, definetely, not enough.

Pushing the door open and nodding to herself when it rotated on its hinges she walked inside, leaving the three corpses and the heater behind.

The following room, once she achieved it after climbing through a set of clacking steel-made stairs, was definetely bigger and full of empty barrels attached to what seemed to be mechanical arms that kept them in place. She had seen similar constructions in the other factories she had been and so, walking past the seemingly unending lines of barrels she looked up, where the owner’s office blinked in the darkness thanks to the twinkling light that came from the stained windows from where he eyed the production in the form of four wooden walls firmly perched atop girders. The security of this one, however, was laughable and for a second she wondered if she was heading to a trap. The information she had received, alongside with the map she had checked before going there, had been pretty accurate but only four men guarding one seemed to be a little lacking. Perhaps, she thought while moving towards the smaller set of stairs erected in the middle of the industrial unit, the man wasn’t as important as he seemed to think considered why she was here.

Her boots didn’t make any sound as she climbed the stairs up, crouching as quickly as possible once she reached the top, careful to not move directly in front of the grease stained windows. The air was thick with the same mix of burnt grease and coal that floated around the compound outside and for a second she breathed through her mouth, careful to not make any sound while she almost crawled until she was directly beneath one of the windows, the chain of her pocket watch dangling perilously before she caught it, preventing it from hitting the outside wall of the small construction.

This was it, she thought, trying her hidden blade.

The rest came and went in a blur as she peeked into the office through the glass. Seeing the balding head of the man she had come for she spied on him as he seemed to read and rewrite something in papers she was too far to conclude what it where. The movements of the man, however, were nervous and imprecise and twice he looked up in just as many seconds before re-writing something in nerve-wracking slowness.

Focusing on the office and how it was layered, Regina realized that the door would open not in front of the man but at his left. The office on itself apparently wasn’t much more than just what she had already seen; just a desk and the light she had seen plus papers that were stacked one atop the other creating mountains the man seemed to be digging on right now. Counting to three Regina moved to door just as the man inside wrote another thing down into his papers. The door was thinner than the ones she had already trespassed and so she pushed, mentally rolling her eyes as it moved, a crack of light slit open the almost darkness she had been surrounded with ever since she had entered in the building. The sound of the door, however, gyrating on its hinges, made enough noise for the man inside to turn towards it, his eyes narrowing in fear as he threw his hand atop the papers he had been writing on, ink splattering on his skin as he did so.

Regina knew she had seconds before the man either tried to attack or cried for help. She had not seen any other entrance than the one she had used but the whole factory plant was immense and it was perfectly possible for more thugs been in one of the shadowed corners waiting to be called. Opening the door fully and jumping quickly into the room she straightened up and closed the door with a swift motion of her right arm, the light coming from the obviously used and never upgraded oil lamp guilty of the pool of light that had been casting shadows on the man’s face as he wrote seeming to titillate as the man in question started to tremble on his chair.

“Who are you?” She spluttered as Regina closed the distance between her and the desk the man now was hiding behind, knuckles white as he grabbed its wooden edge, papers momentarily forgotten. “What are you doing here?”

The brunette could feel the stare of the man as he took on her clothes; nothing appropriate for a woman or for someone who liked to call themselves proper. The tight-fitting pants and boots dyed black so they didn’t reflect back any kind of color in the utmost darkest she normally worked in the first thing one would see. Next the black and purple fitting jacket very much loved back in England by her brothers and sisters but not so much in America and last but not least the gleaming handle of one of her knives alongside with the mechanism around her wrist that created the sheathe for her hidden blades. Nothing about her spoke good omen and for that she let her mouth form a small smirk, one she knew would leave the man worried about his safety if he wasn’t already.

The smile had the desired effect and in a second the man was swallowing hard, eyes dancing frenziedly from one corner of the small room to the other, wishing, probably, to be saved any minute now.

“We both know your goons aren’t going to appear. “ Regina spoke, inflicting on her words as much coldness as possible while trying to look as collected as she would back at any other situation. Infiltrate a party? Done. Get information no one else seemed able to get? Done. Infiltrating a facility? Done. Scaring someone to death before getting information from them? Not so easy. She had liked it, once, but as she licked the back of her teeth while waiting for the man to keep talking she realized that her grip around the knife was too strong, her posture too stiff and her feet weren’t as well positioned as they could have. Annoyed with herself she channeled her center slightly lower, just in case the frantic drumming of the man’s fingers against the wooden desk meant something else than just fear.

Just as expected the man rose his left hand, a gun on his grip, one he probably would have had hidden behind the first drawer, waiting just in case something like this happened.  Changing her own grip around the knife from its handle to the pointed blade Regina snapped her fingers hitting the man’s knuckles with the handle, the pain from the hit eliciting a small cry as the gun fell into the papers of the desk with a heavy thud.

“Impressive.” Regina said in a flat tone even though she could feel her heart racing inside her chest. “As I was saying, your goons aren’t going to appear and you know perfectly well which kind of power I represent.”

She saw the man’s nervous nod as well as the fat droplets of sweat that were starting to form on his receding hairline.

“Then listen to me, everything you’ve been giving them? We want as much information as possible; money, who uses it and who carries it. The robber barons are already restless and you, being one of them, must very well know that once they start actively battling for New York’s City control there are going to be very few things for the smaller factories. Yours is the responsibility for being one of those at the beginning of the tensions or not.”

Regina saw the man swallow nervously once again as she thought again on her words. It was true after all that the industry barons, the ones that didn’t have problems looking at the other way as long as money kept flowing through their factories, were already battling for the better deck places and deals. It was only matter of time that everything went south. She was not economist but she understood enough to know that they were already very close to that explosion and with Templars already making moves the time they had was even shorter.

“So, what’s going to be?” She whispered, hand gripping the knife, blade gleaming on the dirty light of the oil lamp. The man licked his lips, yellowing teeth peeking between them.

“I will give you everything you need.” He finally replied, voice weak as Regina picked up the gun and moved it away from the man’s hands.

“Excellent.” She answered, voice feigning a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. Moving as quickly as possible she hit the man above his ear, the blow making his face go slack as his eyes rolled up, his body falling on top of his papers, the still fresh ink probably coating his chest and the brownish grey jacket he wore.

Looking down at the papers that were visible Regina frowned as she saw numbers upon numbers and what seemed to delivery notes. Embezzlement. Clicking her tongue, she looked at her watch only to grunt inwardly realizing that she was already late. Checking around the room with one final glance and leaving everything as it was as instructed she turned and opened the door of the office, quickly closing it behind her and going back the already walked path. No one stopped her and even though she eyed the shadows between every barrel, the air still steaming with unrefined soap, no thug jumped to her from them. Apparently, her job was done.

The slightly colder but still heavy air of the nighttime breeze hit her nose as she finally exited the factory, the corpse of the first goon she had taken care of nowhere in sight.

“I told you I had everything under control.” She snapped into the shadows, eyes narrowing in rage as a soft chuckle was heard from where she had been staring at.

“It really looks like it.” The shadows replied in a heavy British accent as a female silhouette came out of them. “Leaving so many corpses behind one would say you want to get caught.”

Regina let out a heavy sigh, feeling the wings of her nose flare up as she stared at the redhead that was now eyeing her with a lopsided smirk. “I had a very tight schedule.” She replied, knowing very well that that didn’t excuse her sloppiness. The redhead shrugged, pointing at a small corner at Regina’s back where the brunette knew there was an alley rarely used except for drunkards that went there to take a piss. “I’ve put him there, hopefully by the time he is found our new friend has already covered his trails enough for us to pick up the rest.”

Regina nodded at that, choosing to leave behind a conversation Zelena had apparently decided to also not take in that moment. “He is ready to talk, as soon as he wakes up that is.”

The glee on Zelena’s following answer wasn’t feigned. “Excellent.”

Regina nodded before she glanced at the elevated railroad, the clanking sound that came from it still being carried away by the wind. Zelena followed her gaze and shook her head before extracting a small envelope from one of her hidden pockets. Her clothes were very much like Regina’s, the coat the brunette wore actually something  the redhead had carried away from England when she had left the country. “You have new orders. We have managed to find that one of our watched Templars is about to climb a few rungs, possibly get enough power to start funneling the money in the organization. You need to stop it.”

Regina nodded at that, already opening the letter in where the details of the mission were written in the precise handwriting of their archivist.

“Killian Jones.” She read. Glancing up again she heard Zelena already moving back to the shadows, her red mane covered by her own hood.

Looking at her watch she sighed. Long night it was then.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (The mansion’s description is heavily based in Glenview mansion. One that wasn’t erected until 1877, slightly later than the general years this story is being settled. However, being one of the last great mansions as the countryside was starting to become another part of the developing city rather than a completely different place outside the city, I decided to take it as the main description for Emma’s temporary living place.  
> The grappling hook that Regina uses appeared in Syndicate as one gadget the Frye’s twins use as well as the smoke bombs and other gadgets. All used either by the twins or by other members of the saga.)  
> Comments are always appreciated!

What had been deep darkness and silver hues from the moonlight above against the muddy puddles along the roads was now a slowly clearing darkness in where the beginning of a new day was starting to paint the world around an already recognizable silhouette resting against one of the walls built upon stone that was part of the mansion she was about to enter in. Looking around while still crouched as closer to the well-kept soil beneath her as possible, Regina took a deep breath; the smell of manure and coal hinting the greenhouses and railway that seemed to circle Yonkers, keeping the place away from the actual New York. Even if, the brunette reflected while casting a quick glance to the slowly greying sky, that seemed to become a harder feat every month it passed.

The future, she thought, inwardly, her inner voice seeming painfully like Zelena’s, was already there and it was a matter of time before old battles started to modernize themselves. She briefly wondered how that was going to happen or if she even was going to see it. Shaking her head away from those thoughts she returned to gaze the rough-hewn blocks in where the walls of the mansion were built with. Too pretentious, she reasoned while narrowing her eyes, looking at the second floor in where flowers and other motifs were carved in the stone around the windows. As she had approached the mansion as swiftly as possible -a feat that had taken her quite a lot considering she didn’t have a carriage nor an automobile Zelena often spoke of and something still not widely used in the city and stealing one although plausible would only draw attention- she had as well see the various chimney turrets built upon the roof and which disrupted the heavy, stern appearance of the house. Very pretentious indeed, she found herself thinking again while turning her lips into a fine line as the thoughts kept slipping inside her brain. She had never been a woman of considering richness linked to excessive ambition but, rather, what was expected. Those thoughts, of course, had been already hidden beneath layers of murders and self-realizations that, more often than not, tended to hurt.

Either way the mansion, which looked very much like some Victorian Castle if it wasn’t for the slightly smaller measures of it, was her new obstacle to tackle and as she eyed the ornaments around the windows she smiled slowly, the soil beneath her boots dipping slightly as she tiptoed backwards, trying to see the best angle for her to attach a rope. Something that spoke off not only money but someone who liked to spend it in the garden.

The information she had gathered from Zelena’s report was rather poor but enough to fill the blanks; the place she was looking at wasn’t Mr. Jones’ but, rather, his fiancée’s -Emma Swan- father who, apparently, had let the soon to be married couple the place as he was away during what appeared to be an innocent business-related voyage through the southern states. A quite modern and extravagant idea if anyone wanted Regina’s opinion but coming from a man that apparently enjoyed living in a place that seemed to be more a castle than an actual house, it seemed fitting.

The fiancée in particular had been left out of the assassination so Regina surmised that whether Jones had already been found Templar the woman in question hadn’t and the Creed was either waiting to see what happened with her or hadn’t bothered at all. Somehow that thought made her uncomfortable. Biting down her bottom lip as she opened her cloak she grabbed the short piece of rope she always carried with her and attached it to the small grappling hook also readied on the hidden blades mechanism. Closing an eye as she looked back to the second floor she hummed to herself, mentally calculating how long she would need to walk backwards before the angle was the adequate. She considered simply breaking down one of the windows of the first floor and let herself in but as the night was almost gone by then she very well couldn’t be caught by anyone inside the house that may have be already up. Raising her arm, she let the grappling hook loose pressing the hidden button and soon enough the sound of the metal against the windowsill was heard. Taking a big breath and placing her feet as wide as possible she let the mechanism push her up. Wincing as her body impacted against the walls, her fingers hit the harsh stone -she really would have needed to pick up her gloves- before she managed to get ahold the window’s ornaments she felt rather than saw the hook retract back to its original place as she braced herself. Pushing herself up until she was able to pick on the guillotine window’s mechanism, she moved it open for her to slide inside before the window’s slash fell back again.

Taking on her surroundings as she quickly stood up, right hand dismantling the rope and putting it back again on her belt’s pouch, she blinked a few times before the shadows around her turned into furniture weakly illuminated by the dawn’s growing light. Humming to herself she let out a breath she had been holding ever since she had opened the window as she saw how, rather than breaking into a bedroom, the room she was in appeared to be more a little dressing room which, considering the air of aloofness that was filled with, didn’t seem to be a place particularly used. Raising her brows at that she quickly pictured again the windows she had seen from her brief study outside of the house. The windows she had considered them to be part of a small study on her first inspection were at her right which only left the ones across what was possibly going to be a small hall at the other side of the room’s closed door for them to be part of the master bedroom in which, she hoped, Jones was sleeping.

Regina knew very well what Zelena would say if she was there with her; poison was always the best option and even though the method was something she considered  to be rather brutal it seemed the best one to use taking into consideration she needed to do it as quick as possible before the day actually started. Picking again her belt she extracted one small dart from it; a weapon that wasn’t as used as it had been on the first years of the creed, back when the land was starting to be fought by settlers and natives alike, but still useful. Glancing again around her, trying to get the best feeling of the hardwood floor and where it would probably make less noise as she stepped on it, she decided on approaching the door as quickly as possible while putting her weight on the tip of her toes, mentally thanking the shoemaker who had worked on her boots and the soft, flexible leather that followed her orders without a single squawk they were made with.

Just as she had expected, the closed door led to a corridor in where, at her right, a door slightly opened led to an study considering the desk and comfortable-looking chair she was able to see through the opened door. At that room’s left, the corridor kept going, still surrounded in darkness. Moving close to the wall, already readying the poisoned dart, Regina crossed the corridor as quick as possible, her cloak moving slightly behind her before she pulled it close, not wanting it to make any sound that could potentially betray her movements.

The corridor ended, just as she had predicted, into another door, this one closed. The keyhole was big enough, however, to look through it and a grim smile found its way through her lips as she saw the bottom end of a bed. _Bingo._

The door wasn’t closed but it was still heavy and so she put all her weight on it as she grabbed the handle of the door, trying to rise the heavy wood from the floor as much as possible while sliding in in order to avoid any possible sound the door could do against the floor. Luckily, that didn’t happen and so she soon found herself in a very much more obviously used master bedroom than rather the room she had come from. It was apparent than, as she had guessed back outside, this had been used by the soon to be married couple instead of the probably smaller rooms at the first floor.

Tilting her head, she looked towards the bed she had seen from the keyhole only to feel a cold chill running down her back; the bedroom was occupied, yes, but only by one woman, Jones’ body nowhere in sight. The woman, resting on her chest and whose face was buried beneath the sheets, only occupied the left side of the bed. The right, the closest to the door, was completely empty aside for the pillow and sheets that weren’t being used by the woman herself whose right hand, if she squinted, sported a ring. The fiancée then.

Tightening her jaw and burying her head deeper on her hood, Regina turned towards the door, mentally calculating if she had the time to explore the house before it was already too late or even if Jones was in fact inside the property. Walking towards the right side of the bed Regina touched the sheets, a part of her who had been inwardly wincing every time she moved her slightly burned hand hissing when her fingertips grazed the cold surface of the sheets. Another part, however, her most clinical part, swore inwardly; too cold for the man to have just been awoken.  

The mission was probably already in jeopardize and for a second she wondered if everything had been a trap. The thought, however, born from the many times she had felt the need to look at her back, was dismissed as quickly as it had appeared. Her most pressing problem was now leave the house before…

“Who are you?”

_…Being discovered._

If Regina needed to be fair, Emma Swan made a pretty good first impression on her; eyes still sleepy but her jaw set on a steel-like line and wearing nothing but her nighttime gown the blonde with pale skin should probably look nothing but a scared woman. The blonde, however, didn’t look afraid, just rightfully furious and for that Regina almost arced one brow before the importance of the fact of having been discovered really settled in.

“Miss Swan.” She hissed while straightening her back, one arm at her back, grabbing one of her favorite weapons, which she always kept as close as possible. “You don’t need to alarm.”

“I think I’ve made a very easy question.” The woman said with narrowing eyes. “Who are you?”

So much for daddy’s little girl. Regina mused before closing her fingers around the sleeping grenade she had been perfecting for so long.

“No one.” She replied before letting the grenade fall just as she covered her face with the loose ends of her cloak, its fabric filtering the air enough for her not to fell asleep due to the purple-hued mist that quickly surrounded the two of them.  Once she heard the soft thud of the blonde’s body falling into the mattress once again, Regina turned herself towards the door, half expecting to find it open and with a man already pointing a gun at her.

However, the door was closed and so she quickly approached it, knowing that her cloak wasn’t perfect and so she had seconds before the air filtered through the fibers of the fabric. The mission was screwed and probably every little advantage the creed could have had on the Templars once the blonde awoke and explained what had happened to her soon to be husband will be lost. She briefly wondered on killing her but she threw the thought away as she opened and closed  the door with less carefulness than what she had previously used. The code was strict on that regard; never kill an innocent, never expose the creed, hide always in plain sight. Unfortunately, if she didn’t do something fast she would break the second rule of the creed and with it, probably, not only her status but every little information they had managed to gain without the Templars noticing would be lost.

Closing her eyes briefly while taking big gulps of air, she mentally considered the possibilities of Jones being in some other room of the house. She hadn’t checked if it was a carriage outside when she had approached the mansion but she hadn’t seen any marks either around the state and considering how pliable the garden’s soil had been it was probable that no carriage had left the premises. The railway was close but, again, no noticeable footprints had been left on the main door, none that left it, at least since she now could remember a couple of slightly damp indents near the main door she had judged to be the gardener’s fault even though now she had her doubts.

Beating herself as she considered the option of being about to be discovered not only by a Templar but perhaps more, she turned her body towards the beginning of what seemed to be a staircase at the end of the other side of the corridor she had come from. There weren’t any other options, she reasoned, and she would probably need to explain herself to the Creed and probably take a harsh punishment for her recklesness but it was either that or nothing. And she already knew what that felt.

Settling her jaw, she closed the steps between her and the staircase in a few quick strides, noticing how the outside light was already filtering inside, making the polished hardwood floor gleam. “Be quick.” She told herself. “You will have time later to consider everything, now you need to move.”

And so she did; walking down the stairs as lightly as possible, trying her best not to make any sound as the wooden steps moved threateningly beneath her. Once on the first floor, however, she needed a few seconds to reorient herself, the change of lighting more noticeable now. The main hall she was in directed to not only the stairway but also the back of the house in where an open door directed to several other corridors. The one at her left, she surmised, was probably the one designed for the domestic help. That corridor was eerily quiet and for a few moments Regina shifted her weight again, considering trying to go there and find an escape rather than keeping her intent of killing Jones. However, that idea was very short lived as her ears quickly caught was seemed to be whispered conversation coming from the other side of the first floor, the side in where an also closed door waited for her. Walking closer to it and resting one hand against the wooden surface she quietened her nervous thoughts as better as possible while focusing on the other side of the room. She probably would never have the almost magic-like abilities of Ezio Auditore, his story great enough for the tales having finally crossed the ocean, but she had a pretty good hearing and so, soon enough, the ghost of a conversation started to come to her; three different voices, two gruff and slightly slurred, another one accented and slurred as well due probably to alcohol consumption and, maybe, tiredness.

The conversation was almost indiscernible but she could understand the Templars motto before a clinking sound was heard; a toast, probably. “May the Father of Understanding guide us.”

That alone left her nothing but to enter in the room; a Templar séance was taking place and she didn’t have any other option but to kill Jones. She was about to activate her hidden blade and barrel inside the room when frenzied steps made her pause, the sound of a voice she had recently heard reaching her ears coming from the stairway in where the figure of no other but a particular blonde appeared while still swaying a little bit.

“Intruders!” Emma screamed once before running down the stairs, the voices inside the room halting at this. “There is someone here!”

There it went the element of surprise. Just as Emma turned to look at her, her eyes slightly red due to the smoke of her grenade, Regina considered throwing a second one, one that would create a smoke thick enough for her to scurry away. That idea, however, couldn’t be completed as the door at her back was violently opened by one white-haired man that screamed “Assassin” while pointing at her with one thick finger, the Templar ring glinting on his hand as he did so.

Without actually having enough time to even open her mouth, Regina dodged his fist, moving towards the stairs once again as a second man came from the room holding a gun with a much steadier grip than what she would have thought considering the slurring on his words a few seconds before. At her side now, Emma grabbed her forearm, squeezing on it with slightly glazed eyes. “You…” She said before Regina pulled herself free just as the second man pointed the gun at her and, consequently, the blonde.

Thinking fast and letting her instincts take over her body instead of her better, much clearer thoughts, Regina pushed the blonde aside, falling atop of her before rolling out of her, a single scream escaping the woman’s mouth as she collided against the hard wood. A loud bang was heard, just a few inches above where the two of them had been and a chunk of wood hit Regina’s cheek, sending a jolt of pain through her nervous system she quickly ignored. Better that, Regina thought, straightening herself back again, than being dead. Apparently, the contract was right on how little the woman mattered for Jones’ associates. Or for Jones himself.

The man was now standing in front of her, grasping a gun while smiling crookedly. He was wearing a fitted tailored suit that, somehow, looked anything but elegant on his frame. His black hair and green eyes shone against the light that now bathed the hall in where, suspiciously, no servant had barreled in yet. Regina glanced at the other woman, still standing up from the floor, with a growing sensation of weariness. Jones followed her gaze and sighed, shrugging when Regina eyed him back. On his hand, the one that wasn’t keeping closer to his body that is, gleamed another Templar ring alongside with various other ones, all stocky, all proclaiming a much more different upbringing than the one he was probably trying to act as.

The first man, the white-haired one, came to her and pushed her, making her loose her footing and fall backwards, her lungs expelling all the air she had on them as she hit the last one of the steps of the stairway with her back. Spluttering from the hit and trying to breathe again she focused again on Jones, the man seeming to consider something for a moment before whispering something to the second man, the one that had tried to shot her and Miss Swan and whose gun still smoked. Wheezing, Regina managed to hear the end of it before Jones turned back at her, a sleazy smirk parting his lips. “Tell her that the Assassins are onto us.”

The man nodded just as Jones walked towards her, Emma already looking at her soon to be husband with something Regina saw as sudden concern. “Killian?” She heard her whisper.

“Don’t need to worry, love.” The man replied, almost whispering as he crouched in front of Regina, the two men already on the door, about to exit. “I will take care of her.”

“But…”

“Go upstairs.” He commanded and for a moment it almost seemed that Emma was in fact going to follow his orders. Instead, inexplicably, she set her jaw in a very similar fashion she had done for Regina upstairs and shook her head. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Jones, instead of answering, crouched closer to Regina, letting her smell the alcohol on his breath and the smoke of some cheap tobacco. “Normally, I prefer to do other more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back.” He said, the last bit almost whispered through gritted teeth. “With my life on the line, you've left me no choice.”

“Try again.” Regina replied, repulsed, her hands finally getting to disentangle the remains of her smoke bombs as well as the real debris grenades she kept on her belt.

After that everything happened very fast; Throwing the grenades at the man’s face was risky but she didn’t have anything else but that before Jones actually pulled the trigger. The dark-haired man, at the sight of something being tossed his way, moved backwards, the barrel of the gun moving sideways as he did so. Regina heard Emma scream away as well as Jones’ own exclamation when the first grenade collided against the floor, the smoke quickly enveloping them all.

Using her cloak once again Regina managed to cover herself as much as possible as the other bombs exploded, pieces of debris and fake fire quickly developing around them. Coughing due to the smoke, she heard Jones and Swan’s voices, the blonde calling for the man while the man scurried away, the sound of his shoes the last thing she heard as another set of debris fall upon her, the small pieces of rocks cutting her skin.

“Tell your father our deal is over!” She heard being screamed. After that, silence.

 _“And there goes the second rule.”_ She thought. _“Zelena is going to have a field day with me.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Hello all! First of all, sorry for the wait. Being Easter I managed to get a week off work and uni responsibilities and so I spent time with both my girlfriend and friends that, otherwise, I get very too little free time to spend with so I was outside most of the time. However, here it is the second -or third if you count the prologue as one separate chapter- of this story and thank you all for the amazing response this has gotten! Really, thank you both you the lovers of the saga and the ones that are not as in love with the games but are curious regardless. ^^ And thank you to all the ones who have left a comment, I really appreciate those and I hope to get more of your thoughts as the story progresses!  
> Speaking of which, this chapter -and the next one- are less action-based than our first two. For the ones that may have played the AC saga we’ve reached the point in where the major plot of the game is established and thus the map opens for us to go and explore a bit. This basically means that this chapter is going to set up a few other things that will appear in the next chapters and will drive the plot further. Not a lot of Emma I’m afraid but I will turn back to her at the end of this part, promise!  
> Also, if you want to discuss any headcanons or just talk I’m in Tumblr and in twitter under the same name (shadowdianne). I hope to see you there as well!  
> PS: Again, this work has been made with the Collab of SwanQueen-in-Gotham which owns my gamer heart at the moment with her amazing trailer. Its link is back at the prologue so please go and check it out because it’s truly amazing!  
> Enough with me, on with the story! And, as always, comments are very much appreciated! ;)

Regina opened her eyes to a world fully cloaked in the dirty white and purple mist the plaster and dust that covered the internal walls of her bombs left behind. Blinking a couple of times so the world around her cleared enough for her to see she detangled herself from her cloak, the swishing sound of the fabric as she stood the only thing she heard for a few seconds as she checked herself and the different tools her belt sported. Wincing slightly as she touched her cheeks and the small bites into her skin the pebbles inside most of her grenades had left behind she turned quickly when a voice rose at her left, the owner of it a particularly livid blonde who was now eyeing her, apparently unfazed by the fact that Jones had left the premises and with him whatever deal he had referred to before disappearing.

“What have happened?”

Regina didn’t answer, too preoccupied in what she was going to say to the brotherhood once she reached the headquarters and how far Jones actually was or if he even was still traceable. Rotating her wrist until her hidden blade whirred on its sheathe she narrowed her eyes, mentally berating herself as she realized that between the ones she had already used, the ones that had probably broken down due to the fight and the ones she had needed in order to extricate herself from it she was out of grenades. There it went a swift exit. Her thoughts were cut short by the blonde’s voice again, this time stronger and, definetely, even more incensed.

“Who are you?”

Regina almost smirked, almost, as she looked at the woman who now that she looked at her properly seemed to be slightly younger than her. The blonde was still wearing her nightgown and her hair was mushed probably due to the fight. However, her eyes were set on Regina with a steel-like glint on her green irises and her lips were turned into a fine line as her jaw was tightly locked, chin raised and defiant as the woman’s hands were turned into tight fists at both sides of her body. Regina had seen thugs who had cowered in front of her; members of the most distinguished gang families doing nothing but quiver. The woman, however, didn’t even tremble when she pointed around her, chipped stairs and the remains of the fight being the first things she pointed at with a furibund gaze, seeming to try to search for answers in the rubble.

“Answer me! Who the hell are you?”

Regina almost raised a brow at the harsh words coming from the woman. She, however, was already considering what she would be able to do before returning to the headquarters in order to save as much face as possible and, maybe, fix the disaster she had caused. Pursing her lips and approaching the entrance of the mansion from where Jones had left she sighed inwardly; morning was already settled firmly in Yonkers and the possibilities to stealth its way out of the place were dim at best. Regardless, before she reached the profusely worked handle the blonde’s voice rose again.

“Don’t even dare to think about it! Who are you?” The blonde seethed.

“I don’t have the time for this.” Regina replied, turning towards the blonde, taking into her disheveled state a second time in as many minutes. The sight was still impressive but beyond that Regina also saw the glint of loss beyond the strong façade and for a second she wanted to close her eyes and ask forgiveness to the almost stranger that was now eyeing her with a mix between worry and ire. The ring that had been caught Regina’s eye back when she had first seen the other woman winked at her but Regina looked away from it, focusing instead on the bits of wood the blonde’s tresses sported. “I need to caught someone Miss Swan, not talk with you.”

“That someone being my fiancée.” The blonde replied and for a second Regina almost wanted to laugh at the utter madness their words were.

“Considering that he called whatever deal he had with your father off I don’t think he considers himself that anymore.” She replied while attempting not to wince at the formality of her answer. She had spent far long without speaking to someone who wasn’t a member of the creed, her skills were certainly rusty and for a moment too long an older feminine cold voice clouded her thoughts. _“Be proper, be always proper.”_

Clenching her jaw, Regina eyed the blonde, mentally counting the number of seconds she would need to open the main door she had directly at her back and hop out of the house before the blonde actually followed her. Something that seemed very possible considering the look the younger woman was now giving at her. It was doable, her mind provided, but perhaps not the smartest movement. She had already drawn Templar’s attention to both her and the creed. She didn’t need the police as well although, being as corrupted as they were, it was easier to drawn the attention of the different thief gangs that operated within the city than the actual police itself.

The sides of her lips quivered, an idea starting to form. In the meantime, Emma kept eyeing her, apparently not knowing what to answer to Regina’s latest statement. Back as straight as a road and feeling in her muscles the wounded up tension of the fight, Regina looked at her, noticing for the first time since the fight had started that the fitted hood in which her cloak ended had fallen at some point leaving her face completely in display. Groaning inwardly, she fought against her instinct of pulling it back on its place, knowing that, by then, all intent of keeping her features hidden was risible.

“As I was saying.” She whispered, knowing already that by the time she managed to get out of the mansion Jones’ track would already be impossible to follow, “I don’t have the time for this Miss Swan.”

The blonde name had been in the brief orders but hadn’t been mentioned as a target and whether Regina never trivialized what she did it wasn’t until she found herself looking at the green eyes of the woman when she truly felt uneasy for some reason, one that Zelena would simply say that were feelings interfering with the job -word that she would spit with anger and disgust before returning back to that damned smirk Regina hated- It wasn’t the first time that the widow of a Templar found herself looking at the perpetrator of her husband’s murder. It didn’t happen often but Regina had heard of it. Lesser were the cases in where it was the husband the one who found out that her wife had been assassinated but, still, cases existed and even though there were many marriages in where both spouses were Templars there were many others in where the other didn’t know who their spouse was. The Creed’s story was filled with moments in where a member had been obliged to share information in order to get out of a sticky situation -and possibly that cementing the creed harder into the collective folklore status the creed and Templars were both rapidly acquiring- and for a moment she was tempted to answer to whatever questions the blonde may had. Time, however, wasn’t on her side and for that she run her tongue against her teeth before she made a quick nod towards the blonde who was looking at her through narrowed eyes, possibly thinking if she would have the time to grab her before she did whatever trick the woman considered her capable of doing.

_“Less than the ones I would want.”_ Regina found herself thinking before, without turning, moved her right hand to her back and, after one second of fumbling, opened the main door. The morning light illuminated the hall and Emma’s blonde tresses in the second that took Regina to slip away, boots moving against the wood, and close the door behind her, scurrying to her right as soon as the wooden door was closed. The beginning of a scream and thunderous steps quickly reached her ears as she moved towards the bushes that grew around the perimeter of the house and where she hid as Emma’ silhouette appeared and disappeared with one final promise of talking with the police that rose in the now pale blue sky, a grey hue seeming to coat it even so far away from the spitting factories at the other end of the city.

Regina touched the tips of her fingers repeatedly, feeling the tightness on her burnt hand as she thought back on the dark corridors of the house and what could have been an easy job. The soil beneath her was still moist due the night and for a moment she tugged at the wisps of grass, the cape pooling around her as she crouched, her left hand quickly grabbing the hood and tugging the fabric, not quite pulling it all the way up her head but, rather, leaving it to fold around her shoulders. Wearing a cloak during daylight wouldn’t help her and for that she waited a few more minutes before she rose, keeping herself as close as possible to the mansion’s walls so she could avoid any curious eyes from inside until she moved towards the backyard in where she stepped outside the manor’s shadow and walked quickly, leaving the house behind as she moved towards the south of Yonkers. Glancing back, she narrowed her eyes as she tried to distinguish any trace she could use but, as she had already suspected, she was already too late. Jones was, obviously, nowhere in sight and any trace he or the other two men could have left behind were almost useless now.

Which only brought Regina to one solution, one she squared her shoulders for as she left the mansion, and the blonde woman, behind. She would need to add to avoid any mission regarding Yonkers for a couple of months to the sticky situation she now found herself in. If they ever let her continue with the mission that was. It wouldn’t be the first time the Creed stripped down an Assassin from their status if they considered they reckless.

Wanting to bare her teeth at the thought of a particular smug redhead already eyeing her with badly concealed pity she walked quickly, not reacting to the people she started to encounter here and there as she left the richest part of the Town and moved towards the more inhabited parts of it; children who played or talked in tight bunches in the street, men and women alike, the richness of the fabrics they wore lessening as she left behind Yonkers, the sun slowly raising in the light blue sky in where the grey hue never seemed to leave it alone.

She knew she could have tried to jump into one of the horsecars that slowly made their way down the streets of the city but she had never been too fond of the contraptions and for that she walked, eyeing the walls of the buildings and dreaming of nightfall in where she would move between their shadows, not needing to worry about awed or scandalized stares due to her looks. With every passing road, though, and every time she found a girl or boy that seemed lost but weren’t if one passerby happened to look past the young faces and more into their agile fingers, she stared at them, trying to get any glint of recognition from any of them.

She needed almost an hour, perhaps more, and walk up to Woodlawn cemetery -Yonkers long past- before one of the boys with a runny nose and sharp blue eyes stared at her a second too long before dropping his gaze towards her wrists. Nodding at her quickly, almost snappishly, the boy turned and run down the alley he had come from, the shirttails of his grey and and almost yellow shirt -even though Regina was sure that it had been a much more cleaner color back on the days- floating behind him.

The boy was back in less than a minute with a slightly older girl who eyed Regina surly, her brown, beaten dress in not much better state than the boy’s clothes. Her blonde hair was tightly pulled in two long braids and her face, albeit slightly dirty, wasn’t as pale as the one of her companion who glanced back at Regina one final time before jogging back to his place. Regina smiled at the girl, hiding her surprise to find her so up north the city.

“You weren’t expecting me.” The voice of the girl was deeper than her face or height suggested but Regina had already become accustomed to it. Schooling her features and realizing that her surprise must have been more evident than what she had thought it would be, she simply nodded, letting the girl guide her to the opposite corner where the boy was still waiting, eyes never leaving the streets.

“I thought you would be at Five Points.” She finally replied. She knew the two of them had a very limited amount of time before either the girl was called by either the other children that pullulated the entrance of the cemetery pretending to be regular or by the few citizens that apparently gave a damn by children who were parentless. She, herself, wasn’t extent of danger but she, at least, had weapons she would use if she ever needed to break free. She suspected that the girl didn’t have that luxury.

The girl’s eyes clouded for a moment before she pursed her lips into a tight line at the mention of the motley streets far south in where the worst of the New York gangs lived in.

“It’s complicated to work there.” She finally replied, pointing at the direction of the stone walls that circled the cemetery. “Here is easier.”

Regina nodded at that, not really sure but knowing that Gretel had never trust anyone but herself. The girl had told her that much when she had first needed to contact her, two years ago when collecting a favor the Creed had done back when they had liberating one of the many Orphan Trains that left the city with thousands of children that were later indentured to other families far off town. Gretel had muttered her own name before nodding curtly and answering Regina’s questions, never once wavering under the woman’s stare, never once glancing at the blades at her wrists or the knife she had on her belt and never once looking curiously at Regina’s clothing.  Plus, Regina considered, easier could just mean that the children simply found quicker to pick the dead’s belongings instead of needing to fight with other gangs so they could pickpocket one single man.

“I need help.” She finally said, nodding at the child and noticing the harsh lines that were already present around the girl’s mouth. _Older than her years._ “Information.”

Gretel eyed her once before shrugging, not promising her any answers which Regina knew was fair. The sun was starting to become stronger and Regina tilted her face, trying not to narrow her eyes as both Gretel and her stared at each other, the cemetery at the girl’s back.

It was still fairly new, less than ten years old, but it was already quite big and the green slopes and names already buried there, grey against green, made Regina strangely reflexive as she let the silence stretch between Gretel and herself. At the end, however, the girl sighed and nodded. “It will have a price.” She said, crossing her arms.

“What price?” Regina asked, raising a brow as she eyed the girl again.

“First, ask.”

So, they were going to play that game. Regna shrugged, very much like Gretel had done moments before.

“I need information of where a man named Killian Jones may go trying to hide. Or where he is now.”

Regina saw a flash of recognition on Gretel’s eyes but the girl schooled her features before she could ask about it. Gone was the moment and so the opportunity so she waited patiently for the girl to answer her.

“I can’t give you that.” Gretel finally said after a few excruciatingly long moments. “But the witch can.”

The witch. Regina hummed while hiding a scowl. She had first come across the woman during her years as a novice and the woman, hidden at the moment in the deepest part of the Five Points where she had last seen Gretel, had never been one she thought of her being trustworthy enough for the Creed’s deals. The woman, however, sometimes provided a place to stay to the newest children that had hit the streets and many of those owned her enough favors for the woman to have a very well connected web of little, small spies that no one would ever think off. Many were the ones who asked for refugee or help with the woman but she always had a price. Regina knew she could very well have respected her and, in a way, she did. However, there was also the feeling of the always smirking woman whose age was impossible to discern that didn’t suit well on her.

She knew, however, that there was very little she could do at the moment and so she hummed and nodded, touching briefly the dried wound on the side of her face were, due to the heat, it had started to itch.

“I will go and see her soon then.”

“She will be waiting.” Gretel replayed gravely before turning and leaving where she had left, probably going back to whatever she had been working on before Regina interrupted her. A thought that made her shiver before turning back to whatever shadow the buildings provided, quickly walking back to where all had started, back at the 9Th and the decks in where the scent of grease and coal, albeit not replaced, were now mixed with sweat and tobacco from the workers that, by the time she arrived there were still working in the early hours of the afternoon.

This time, however, she used the horsecar due to the hour, the trotting of the animal enough to make her nauseous as she thought in the harsh words she was probably going to hear the moment she arrived at the Creed’s hideout. Around her, as she approached the decks, the city seemed to halt with each passing second, the shadows of the ones moving under the sun sticking to her gaze as she watched them pass by, digits forever fumbling with the knifes still safely tucked on her belt. She very well could have used the roofs, she thought as the houses were replaced by the beginnings of what were the outskirts of the factories, the ones that were still too new for the world they all lived in but seemed about to swallow the shore whole regardless of it. However, she had never used them during broad daylight.

Perhaps later, she found herself thinking as she finally reached her stop, starting to walk as soon as her boots touched the floor knowing full well that she still had quite a walk before she would be truly inside the deck’s maze. The stench floated around her cloak as she moved, thanking the shadows the factories provided as drunkards here and there called for her, the floor wet and sticky with mud and filth, the smell of rotting fruit reaching her nostrils as well as screams and orders climbing through her ears, never once in silence long enough.

_“Home, sweet, home”_ She found herself thinking darkly when she came across a rundown, decrepit house which a façade had certainly seen better times but was now painted black in splotches were the thick fumes of the factories had reached it. The door, however, betrayed that fragile exterior as it was sturdy and very well kept and, not for the last time, Regina was sure, she was surprised to hear the long, strong echo as she knocked on it, patiently waiting for the rummaging that eventually came from the other end and…

“Who is it?”

Regina sighed, not bothering to hid her disdain as she eyed darkly at the door in front of her.

“Graham, it’s me, open the door.”

“R…ight, give me a second.”

The gruff voice of the man came back to her half-chocked, as if the tall Irish man hadn’t expected her voice which, Regina considered briefly, perhaps he hadn’t. The door, however, opened to her remarkably quickly and so she stepped inside, nodding at the man whose clothes consisted in pretty much the same hers albeit the tight-fitting vest she worse was slightly looser on him as well as his shoes that replaced Regina’s high boots. The man was known for his bluntness but in that moment, he only pointed inwards with one thumb before biting his bottom lip like a scolded child.

“They are not very happy.”

“I suppose not.” Regina replied, walking towards the torturous black corridor whose bare walls did nothing but reaffirm the rundown feeling of the place. At what had once been the kitchen but now was mostly used as a place where the creed seated at while eyeing the maps of the city in an attempt to keep being a step or two ahead the Templars a silver of light was seen through the half closed door and Regina pushed the now slightly less sturdy door, the rumbling she had been hearing ever since she stepped inside the corridor halting as she entered inside the room in where, much to her dismay, a tied woman was seated in small chair, her green eyes as fiery as she had last seen them earlier that very same morning.

“Miss Swan?!”

Zelena turned to her, a dark glint dancing on her eyes. “Look who has returned.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are again! Sorry for the hiatus I took. I fully intended on keeping with editing the already written chapters but the last weeks of my uni were completely nuts and I was only able to write small pieces just so I could keep sane. However, I’m full on vacation mode right now -at uni at least- so that makes me free again to write and edit for longer periods of time. Thank you all who took your time to leave a comment, it’s heavily appreciated, and I also want to re-thank Swanqueen-in-gotham here who is the other mind behind the story. I fully rec her stories as well. She has a very cool style and grasps both Emma and Regina really well ;)  
> So, in here we are going to see a little more of Regina, her place in the Brother -sister?- hood and Emma’s motivations.   
> Enough of me, on with the story. Again, thank you for the feedback, leave comments if you want and sorry for the wait. It won’t be happening again!  
> PS: The SwanQueenWeek is already very close, if you want to write, make vids, gifs, art or just look at it go to their tumblr page. Some votings are still being done!

“Have you lost your mind?!”

The question echoed on the house making not only the other women clothed in similarly fitted clothes but Emma as well to wince as Regina turned to stare at Zelena, hands on her hips. The brunette kept her stare on the redhead as she eyed her venomously, her hands crossed over her chest. The dimly light of the room was enough to showcase the metallic glints of her hidden blades and Regina could feel her jaw-muscles working as she kept staring at Zelena, not even bothering to look at either Ruby or Belle. Both woman remained silent though, at both sides of the seated blonde.

“The question.” Zelena said, speaking in a very similar tone, her accent seeping through her words. The green-hues of the details of her suit seemed to shimmer as she moved closer to the old kitchen’s table, making Regina follow them as the other woman hovered over the wooden surface. Placing her gloved hands on top of the uneven wood, Zelena bared her teeth, almost seething. “Is if you have lost yours.”

Regina could feel hot anger gurgling inside her chest, clawing its way up her neck. Her hands and entire body hurt from both her first job at the factory and the following fights she had needed to endure and just for that she swallowed, breaking eye-contact with Zelena for a second long enough to stare at the tied blonde that was looking at them through fiery, widened eyes. Emma Swan’s pale skin was slightly flushed and it seemed that her clothes were rumpled but, otherwise, she seemed unscathed. That, however, didn’t quench Regina’s fury and so she turned to look at Zelena again, leveling her voice until it didn’t scratch her vocal chords as she spoke.

“I won’t let…” She started only for Zelena to interrupt her with a raise of her hand. Regina saw Ruby taking a step towards the redhead, her lips trembling as if preparing herself to say something, anything, but Belle put a hand over her shoulder, halting the lanky brunette.

It was going to be like this then, Regina thought grimly.

She had expected to never see the blonde again. To stay as far from her as possible specially after the last moment they had shared before she had exited the mansion. Seeing her like this, however, completely tied up, was something she would have never expected and for that she felt a strange mix of worry and ire taking over her. She could remember doing many things, many regrettable things and after breaking two laws of the creed she knew perfectly well that she was in no position to actually say anything but the third, most important one, seemed to be pending over her head. A bonafide Damocles sword.

And Zelena knew that, she knew that as much as she should be realizing that taking a hostage was never the best solution.

“Don’t even dare to finish that Regina.” Zelena spoke in a slightly lower tone, her voice as laced with anger as Regina felt. “I sent you to make a quick visit to a Templar, to kill them so we could keep with our plans and what did you do instead? Lose him and leave her free to start making questions!”

That last bit was said while pointing at the blonde who opened her mouth in protest only to be shushed by Belle. Regina, however, didn’t move an inch, knowing very well that that was what Zelena was probably waiting for, an opening so she could dissect her in front of the others. Standing as tall as she was, she put her hands on the table, mimicking Zelena’s stance as she did so. The smell of dust and the reminiscent one of tobacco and salt floated in the air as she took a deep breath and for a second, a far too long second, no one else seemed to move as they waited.

“That’s not what happened.”

Not a great starter but measured enough to make an impasse.

“Then what happened?” Zelena rebuked, raising her chin as she spoke, red tresses following her movement as she fully turned towards Emma. “Why we needed to send Graham when the first rumors started to spread about a mansion being “on fire” only to find a woman speaking fantastic stories about another woman who had tried to kill her fiancé and then fleeing the scene after using some “smoke” if that wasn’t what happened?”

Regina had fully expected something like this, she had, in fact, been expecting something like this ever since the fight had started back at the mansion. She hadn’t had any other option but to fight and try to eradicate the larger problem after all but she still found herself getting angry at Zelena’s tone.

“I think” She said in an even, cold tone that made Zelena turn back to her once again, eyes slightly narrowing as she circled the table, her boots never making a sound. “That you need to stop questioning me as if you were the one calling the shots here. We saw an opening but you should know better than anyone else that nothing tends to be as easy as it may appear.”

Her last words touched a chord; she could see it on the way Zelena’s face twisted in anger as the redhead’s body coiled, her expression hardening, her wrists exposed for a second. Her blades reacted to the dim light again and Regina could feel the muscles on her legs trembling as she subconsciously prepared herself for an attack. One, however, that never came since Zelena let her hands fall once again over the table, the firm sound that caused floating between the two of them as well as the swishing sound of Emma battling against the ropes that still imprisoned her.

Regina saw the flash of doubt that glowed on Zelena’s eyes but refrained herself from smirking, knowing very well the short temper the other woman possessed. The New York brotherhood was newer than the small ones that still existed back at the Old World and with it it came changes; no master, no higher place over the other assassins that could be there. That’s what had been stipulated and that was what made everything work, no matter what. Zelena had come with another ideals, ideals of one atop the others, one in where the Templars also lived. Regina could remember those ideas as well but she fought against them.

“So what? We leave him roam free? Let him talk about us to the other Templars while we wait for an attack?” The question was still fueled with anger but it was less scathing than before and Regina let silence set for a moment, taking into the quick glances shared between Ruby and Belle at Zelena’s back. The archivist seemed to have realized that there had been a small shift and so Regina returned to eye Zelena, taking into her posture and the way she still seemed furious. She, as much as she didn’t have had much options back at the mansion, did have a very small window. She needed to use it right if she didn’t want to be pushed away from this.

After all, Jones had nearly killed her, that only was enough for her to want to show him a lesson.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Her reply was smooth and cutting, sharp enough for Zelena to point at the blonde with one movement of her chin.

“And what about her?”

Emma seemed to be listening intently at both of them, her green eyes taking into everything. Regina could regretfully feel slightly impressed with her endurance; despite of not being gagged the woman didn’t seem about to break and she hadn't seem about tp speak either back when she had entered in the room and that alone was something that needed to be taken into consideration after the many things that had already happened to her. Realizing she was still looking at her, the brunette licked her lips as she turned to look at Zelena again, her head throbbing with the movement. Cursing inwardly and knowing that there was still going to be many things to do before she could take a proper rest, she lowered her shoulders, relaxing her stance as much as possible and feeling the pull on her back as she did so from the earlier fight.

Damned Templars.

“Not killing her seems like the best option.”

A bet, one everyone in the room understood. A very worrying bet, one she didn’t know if she was going to truly win. She could have been played back at the house, the scenario played out in front of her just so Jones could escape. That, however, hadn’t seemed to be the case and as infuriating as the other woman could have been she had merely seemed to be another third party brought into their fight. For that and that only she held her stance when Zelena came closer to her, looking at her through half-closed eyelids.

“You don’t know if she is one of them.”

She didn’t and for that Regina wanted to bare her teeth. She couldn’t know and so she glanced at Belle. The Archivist was almost one with the grey-ish hued wall at her back, her clothes not as fitting as Regina but colored so she could get lost on the darkened corners of the room. Belle looked back at her and tilted her head, eyes shifting from her to the blonde in a matter seconds before she eyed her back, shaking her head.

So, she didn’t think the blonde was part of the Templars either.

Taking a step back and half turning towards Emma, she glanced at Zelena over her shoulder, the leather of her boots quietly whispering beneath her as she did so.

“And you don’t know if is she isn’t either.” The words came out of her like darts, piercing through Zelena, her jaw muscles working as she kept talking.  “I thought that was one of our rules. Never kill an innocent”

She could feel Zelena’s anger between her and the other woman but, as she shifted her weight, she knew she had already won, even when the other woman looked gravely at her.

“Rules that didn’t seem to matter a lot to you before.”

Regina could feel her throat tightening again but kept her ground. She really didn’t have the time for anything of that and a part of her wondered why not simply go and leave. That, however, wouldn’t help her nor the blonde woman currently glancing at her and so she took a step closer towards Zelena, this time closer than before. Enough for her to turn her voice into a mutter that got lost between her lips and the redhead’s own ears.

“Want me to remind you something about that?” A flash of recognition crossed Zelena’s face but Regina kept pushing.  “It was you the one who came here, Zelena, not the other way around.”

Zelena cleared her throat and at her back Regina could listen to the swissing sound of daggers being promptly hidden again. Ruby. Not hiding her grateful smile to the lanky brunette Regina shot a quick glance over her shoulder towards her, her eyes getting trapped on Emma’s as they fell onto her.

She, though, didn’t say a word. Which was enough to interest Regina even further.

“I left because we need to win here, Regina, we can’t lose this and you know it.” Zelena’s words brought her back from her reverie and she found herself nodding alongside those words before pointing vividly at the maps that were spread on the table, dioramas sketched on their corners in the neat handwriting of Belle.

“Then allow me to do something about it instead of sending people as if you knew more than we do.”

That alone elicited a wave of silence and so Regina finally turned to look at the three women for the first time without feeling on trial. Zelena could be cruel, as cruel as she as well could be, and yet she was right; they couldn’t lose the battle, not after the losses they had suffered through the old continent. Not with their own losses already happening and the ones that had already happened not so long ago.

It was Belle the one who broke the silence and so she took a step towards the table, leaving behind Ruby who kept an eye on the blonde tied woman. “What do you propose?” Her voice was measured but laced with worry and so, for a short moment, Regina found herself battling against the news she had been able to get. After taking a far too long moment, however, she could feel Zelena beginning to fidget and so she nodded to herself, twisting her wrists on her blade-holders, feeling the mechanical contraption whirr as she did so.

“I’m going to ask the witch.”

She didn’t need to explain herself, all of them knew about the witch, all of them had made a deal with her in order to get information where their own spies failed. Nevertheless, it was still a price not many were willing to pay.

“The Witch?” Ruby’s voice broke her silence, looking at her from where she was, red accents on her suit flickering under the light as she seemed to tremble beneath the coat she wore. Regina could make the worry lines writing themselves on the other woman’s face and so she shot a quick apology on her way before she pointed at the map were the mansion she had gone to visit was still marked.

“We need to figure out where Jones is hiding. Someone that wants to climb the ranks so quickly must have powerful allies. A simple questioning won’t do the trick.”

“Why don’t we use her?”

The question came from Zelena and her voice was void of any malice as much as Regina could see her anger still coiling inside of her.

“Because he broke whatever deal he had with her father. We can’t be sure he will fall into a bait like her.”

““Her” can hear you.”

That was the first time Regina had heard Emma talk and so she turned, realizing that instead of keeping fighting against the cords that kept her tied on the chair the woman was more relaxed now. Merely looking at them all with fiery green eyes. Gone was again the impression of a noblewoman and back was the glimpse Regina had gotten of her back when she had failed to be unseen.  Coughing and pretending to not have listened to her she kept talking, knowing for a fact she didn’t have that much time before she needed to go to the Witch.

“I asked for an audience.” She didn’t stop on talking about Gretel. The look on the girl’s eyes had been enough. “She will probably be waiting by now.”

“She will make you pay a price.” Belle’s measured voice filled the room again as much as the last remains of salt that seemed to be soaked into the walls. Regina could feel her hands beginning to curl into fists but kept her head as clear as possible as she turned to Belle, trying to convey as much urgency as worry.

“And I will grant it if it’s doable. We all know that she is our best option now. That or talking to the gangs but I doubt they will be as quick to tell us than she is.”

The last part was enough to set them all into silence once again. Gangs had long ago started to answer to the Templars. At least in several parts of the city. The police corruption hadn’t help either and most of the gangs were now too deeply hidden behind Templar territory for them to even try to drag them out. Another reason to go to the witch, Regina thought grimly, they didn’t have any other option.

“I will go with you.” Graham’s voice came from the corridor, his figure looming over the doorjambs. He, apparently, had been listening as well.

“You won’t.” Regina replied almost as quick as Zelena did. Graham was well -intended bust he still wasn’t a master assassin and they definetely weren’t in any position to lose a pupil.

“We need to cover our tracks in case the Templars are intelligent enough to start discovering us.” Zelena added and even if her words hid enough anger it was obvious that the redhead had decided to let it go, for now. “You can try check our usual routes, see if anyone has seen anything during today or if it something happens throughout tonight.”

Graham nodded reluctantly and Regina sighed inwardly, knowing very well that the man could have very well put more of a fight than he had done. Turning to look at Emma once again she took on the angry look the blonde was directing at them. She didn’t look happy in the slightest but wasn’t talking anymore; her eyes going from them all to the table to every corner on the room.

“ _She is assessing the situation.”_ Regina realized noticing for the first times that the hands between the ropes had gone slack, the cord strangely placed between the blonde’s fingers. Feeling her lips starting to form a smirk she turned looked at Belle, the woman sharing a very similar expression on her face. “ _Impressive.”_

“Leave her be.” She said to Zelena, straightening her back as she did so. The redhead narrowed her eyes before she shook her head, amusement seeping through her words as she talked back.

“Why is she so important to you?”

“Set her free Zelena, I won’t repeat myself again.”

The redhead sighed and nodded to Ruby, the lanky brunette kneeling in front of Emma as Regina grabbed her dagger beneath her clothes. The blonde, however, didn’t put a fight, offering her hands as Ruby worked around her knots and sharing a smirk with her as she came with half of them undone.

“Quick fingers.” She said to none in particular and even though her cockiness bothered Regina and it certainly didn’t match -once again- with the woman’s noble upbringing the brunette let herself roll her eyes at the woman’s joviality.

Zelena eyed the blonde with suspicion but pointed at Regina with one quick glance towards everyone else, daring them to say anything against her before she spoke, her voice seeming to screech in the air. “If you are wrong…”

“I won’t be.”

With that last sentence Regina turned to Emma and motioned towards the door, walking past Graham and grabbing a bag full of different grenades by the weight of it as she went, nodding to him in quick retribution as he looked at her.

Another long night it seemed.

Behind her she could hear Emma’s footsteps, heavier than hers but still light enough, as well as Ruby’s voice as she matter-of-factly pointed several places near Templar’s territory that could be used. The echo of their words followed her and Emma back to the street, Graham closing the door behind them with one last glance to her, his eyes setting on Emma long enough for Regina to narrow hers.

_Careful there._

Graham back straightened and the door was closed before Regina could steal a second glance.

As soon as they were on the streets again the same smell of burning coal attacked their nostrils, sticking to their throats as the shadows on the alley seemed to dance towards them with alongside with the nighttime breeze that brought with it the hushes and whispers of the still too early night. The perfect hour of getting lost perhaps, but not the best one to walk through the streets.

Turning towards Emma Regina tilted her head. The blonde hadn’t fled the second the door had closed and gone was the worry nor the pain she had seen back at Yonkers. She, somewhat, seemed different and for that Regina let her chest deflate as she started to pick the grapple hook attached to her hip.

“You are free.” She instructed, pointing up north were the muted sound of a train could be heard. “Follow the railways up to Yonkers and don’t look back. Zelena will probably leave you alone but others may not.”

She was mostly leaving the woman to her own devices but, somewhat, she suspected that that wasn’t going to be a problem. The blonde, however, didn’t move an inch. “Miss Swan.” She said, somberly this time. She really didn’t have any time to lose, Gretel had probably informed the Witch and to Five Points there was almost two hours from where she was. “Have you not heard me?”

The blonde nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, the movement making Regina take fully not only on the woman’s appearance like she had done the second she had recognized her but also on the kind of clothes she wore; rather comfortable by her own standards. Perhaps not as scandalizing as Regina’s but nothing close to what she had seen on her the first time they had seen each other.

 “I’m going with you.” The words made Regina stare openly at the woman in front of her, speechless for the audacity she seemed to possess.

“I don’t remember inviting you to come along.” She replied quickly, icy tone on her voice, something she, as it had happened back in Yonkers, didn’t seem to cause any visible effect on the stubbornly green eyes that stared back at her. “You can go. I set you free. The best you can do with that is go.”

Emma moved closer to her, eliciting a similar reaction to Regina whose cape billowed slightly behind her as she moved.

“You broke inside my house and tried to kill my fiancé. Now he is missing and you are talking about Templars and organizations and tales that seem like you’re crazy.” Her voice was strong yet whisper-like, almost as if she didn’t want to put into words everything she had probably listened inside the Creed. It was actually a miracle she had been set free so easily. On times of Ezio the Auditore may had considered for the best to be as open as possible with her practices but in the present everything was much more complicated than that. “I want to go with you and understand what’s happening.”

_“Who doesn’t?”_ Regina found herself thinking grimly before shaking her head, noticing for the first time how close she was for the blonde. Glancing at the woman’s eyes she saw a sparkle of the same cockiness she had already seen inside and for that, and that only she could feel her insides churn.

“Do you even understand how that’s not possible?” She replied in a similar whisper. “Don’t meddle with things you know nothing about.”

“Do you understand that I will go back there if I need it?” Emma replied quickly, pointing at the closed door Regina was sure that it was being watched by Graham once again. The thought of the woman entering again made her move uneasy, feeling her inner center gyrating far too quickly for her to set her two feet on the muddled floor.

“What for Miss Swan?” We tried to kill your fiancé, do you trust us after that?” She shot back, her words as harsh as Zelena had been inside. She had vouched for the blonde but she wasn’t planning on making a fool of herself. She didn’t have the time for that. Her suspicion must have been noticed because the woman halted in mid-movement, her lips going slack as well as the fiery glow on her eyes. In the distance, two rowdy men intoned an old tune in were its words were lost on the shadows that surrounded them.

 “He left, you were the one who saved me.” The words were said in a measured tone but Regina could see the sting beneath them and for that she fell silent, for now at least. “You are already going to go alone. Why don’t I go with you? And so, this way you can keep an eye on me, see that I’m not one of your… Templars”

Regina eyed her, angry to realize that there wasn’t anything else she could truly say.

“You don’t know the Witch.” She, however, replied while touching her teeth with the tip of her tongue as the other woman narrowed her eyes in defiance. The rowdy men voices were getting stronger.

“I’m not made of glass.”

The answer was said in a strong voice, early hurt already hidden. Picking on her grappling hook and knowing that she was going to probably regret it Regina nodded, using her left arm to cover her body even more on the dark cloak.

“Fine, but we won’t go by a conventional way, Miss Swan, we have a lot to do and a very little time.”

“How then?”

She let a grin appear on her face as she used the grappling hook. The blonde didn’t have any training after all.

“We will use the roofs.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Annnnd, end of the first arc! From now on we are back to the main story with Jones on the run and NYC under the Templar/Assassin’s fight! Sorry for these dialogue-filled chapter. Zelena will appear again though. She is the counterpart of Regina after all on the creed so she will probably be her proverbial adorable pain in the ass ;)  
> Tell me what you think and yes, next chapter WILL be up soon. Very very soon.


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